


intro IV

by Anonymous



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, M/M, POV Sokka (Avatar), Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Your average modern/high school Zukka AU. Read notes please~
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	intro IV

**Author's Note:**

> huhwuh hh ok so this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for ages so I finally said fuk it and posted the unfinished work so that's why it ends so abruptly haha. Uhh otherwise just,, enjoy? It is very late help-

It was funny, because Sokka doesn't even remember the first time he’d seen Zuko.

The guy had started going to his high school at least a couple months back, but Sokka had just… never really noticed him. No one had. Zuko had managed to entirely skip the awkward-new-guy period. It was an incredible ability, especially for someone with (no offense) such a memorable face. But, through his superhuman power, Zuko had managed to slide into the daily grind, slowly easing into Sokka’s periphery until it felt like he'd never been absent.

Sokka had never even done a double take at him - not once.

This all culminated in the reason Sokka was now _very_ interested in Zuko. And no, not in the creepy way, thank you. He’d just been walking between classes, like anyone would when he began to wonder _why_ Zuko was like… well, _that._

So began Sokka’s self-assigned project: “Find Out What the Hell is Up with Zuko.”

No one just made themselves invisible accidentally.

-

Sokka was late. This usually wouldn’t be much of a problem, no matter what any of the teachers said. But the simple fact that he was late to chemistry - Mrs. Kyoshi’s class - had him scrambling through the halls at a breakneck pace, papers flying half-hazardly from his binder.

So it was that Sokka who was not looking where he was going.

One moment he was running and the next, he was flat on his ass, breathing heavy and struggling to pull all of his materials back into some semblance of organization. 

“Oh, god- I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Sokka froze, and, after a pause, hesitantly looked up.

It was _him!_ The guy! Zuko! Center of Project: F.O.W.H.U.Z!

(Okay, so it wasn’t a very catchy name, Sue him.)

Sokka hid a smile as he stood. This was his chance to launch his project, Mrs. Kyoshi be damned. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Zuko, right?”

Zuko nodded jerkily.

“Y- uh, yes. That’s my name. God - sorry, let me help you clean this up-”

Zuko crouched, and Sokka watched with a strange fascination had Zuko somehow managed to make the mess _worse._

Finally, Sokka had mercy.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I was already late. Mrs. Kyoshi can’t kill me any harder.”

Zuko smiled and, for the first time, Sokka _did_ do a double take. The smile had all the appearance of something genuine. Small, with a curve of awkwardness. But Sokka had always been the perceptive type, and what he saw was an expression that had been practiced until it was perfect- but was still impossibly, undeniably fake.

Sokka put on his own smile before Zuko could wonder what was up. “What class do you have next, anyways?”

Zuko looked away. “Uh, none, actually. I’m going h- to my Dad’s.”

Sokka’s friendly grin wilted a bit. 

“But the day’s not even close to done?” he asked, confused. 

“Just family stuff,” Zuko said hurriedly, before shoving past Sokka and all but running out the doors.

Sokka gaped after him, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

The interaction stuck with him throughout the day. How could it not? It was probably the most interesting thing Sokka had seen since that one guy who took a piss in someone’s gym locker out of spite. 

Nearly an hour later, Sokka sat head in hand at his desk. Currently, he was in Mr. Kuei’s history class, and was decidedly not learning a single thing. He just couldn’t seem to push the image of Zuko fleeing from the school out of his mind. Like, okay, maybe he’d been a bit pushy, but his reaction-

Sokka shook the thought out of his head. No, he was decidedly _not_ going to think about this anymore. One: he wasn’t a stalker, and two: he could practically feel his grade dropping the longer he tuned out Mr. Kuei’s lecture.

Lunch rolled around what felt like hours later. Sokka and his gang (yes, _his_ gang. He was obviously the leader, _Toph.)_ were seated outside, sharing strawberries Aang had picked from Gyatso’s garden.

“Okay, I’ve got one-” Katara said, a laugh in her voice. “What time did the man go to the dentist?”

Aang visibly frowned, as if he was actually thinking about Katara’s infamously terrible jokes.

“I give up,” he sighed, defeated. “What time, Katara?”

“Tooth hurt-y!”

Sokka swore he could hear crickets.

“...Moving on!” Toph chirped. “Sokka, why in the fresh hell were you late for chem? You know what Mrs. Kyoshi is like.”

Sokka pulled a stem of grass from the ground beside him, rubbing the blade between his fingers.

“It’s a funny story, actually-”

“Not Katara-funny, right?” Toph jumped in, a devilish grin on her face. Katara glared, before realizing that it had approximately zero effect on the blind girl.

Sokka huffed a little, before promptly shutting up as Katara turned her glare on him.

“No, not that kind of funny. Just… weird-funny, y’know?”

Toph leaned forward in anticipation. 

“C’mon,” she goaded. “Spill.”

Sokka cast the grass aside. “Well, you know that one guy- Zuko?”

After a beat, everyone nodded.

“I ran into him in the hall - quite literally actually. And I asked him what class he was going to, and he just… got all weird?” Sokka said, punctuating his words with a wave of his hand. “Said he was going to his dad’s place, then he just… ran away. Like, actually ran. It was wack.”

Toph frowned, disappointed. 

“That’s not funny. That’s just sad.”

Sokka blinked. 

“Why?”

“Yeah, Toph. Why?” Aang repeated.

Toph snorted. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one here who’s _not_ blind. Did you seriously not recognize his name when he came here? Lemme give you a hint - Zuko. Zuko what?”

The three of them stared, gears visibly turning.

“I’m sorry,” Katara finally said. “I don’t get it.”

Toph slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Zuko _Sozin,_ piss-for-brains! Son of Ozai Sozin? The literal CEO of Fyre industries? You know, the biggest industrial company _in the world!_

Project: F.O.W.H.U.Z fell apart.

“ _What?”_ Sokka squeaked. “But… but he’s supposed to be in like, years ahead! In Harvard, or something! Studying business! Why is he in Ba sing se?”

Katara and Aang’s reactions were similarly paced. 

“Why would he be here-”

“I didn’t know Ozai had a son-”

“Didn’t he get disowned, or something?”

“Does that mean his sister is _Azula?_ ”

“What? You mean crazy, psycho Azula? The one who pushes freshmen into rivers and breaks peoples’ arms for fun?”

“Yeah, that’s the one-”

“Then why isn’t she here too-?”

Toph held up a hand.

“Woah woah woah. I’m not sure, sunshine. I’ve told you everything I know.” A pause. “I wouldn’t go asking about it, though. Seems like a touchy subject.”

The bell rang.

Sokka drifted through the rest of his classes, feeling much like a cloud would on a gusty day. 

_“-Family stuff.”_

_“-son of Ozai Sozin…”_

And Zuko was here. Here, in high school, with a bunch of middle-class stoners and a giant burn across his face.

_“Didn’t he get disowned, or something?”_

An interesting image began to form in Sokka’s mind, painting a picture of something he almost wished he’d never discovered.

A new plan began to form. Get Zuko a Friend.

-

It turned out that his new plan was a bit more difficult than he had first projected.

Beneath his desk, Sokka began to scribble on a piece of scrap paper.

_List of Problems:_

_Zuko is scared of like, everyone.  
He is avoiding me.  
Correction: avoiding everybody.  
Seriously, has this guy ever interacted with A Person?_

Sokka crossed out the last one. That was obviously not true - he’d interacted with Sokka, after all.

He sighed heavily.

“Sokka, is there something you’d like to say to the class?”

Sokka jumped in his seat, frantically tucking the list into his binder.

“Uh, no, Mr. Wang. Just tired.”

Mr. Wang huffed. 

“Well, perk up. We have a test tomorrow, and it’d be a real shame if you didn’t do well.”

Sokka smiled innocently. “Of course, sir.”

The class continued, but every word spoken seemed to seep right out of his mind, like water through a siv. 

_“Wasn’t he disowned, or something?”_

Sokka grit his teeth. He _would_ do this, no matter how hard it was. Zuko didn’t deserve what had happened to him, whatever that was. Didn’t deserve to drift through life without a friend to his name.

Was he getting too attached to a person he’d met once? Yes. Did he give a single shit?

No.

-

After Sokka began noticing Zuko, he realized that they actually _did_ have a class together. Algebra. His least favorite class, though the one he was annoyingly good at.

“...This will be a group project. Your partners are listed on the whiteboard. Please make a plan to meet up and work on the problem. Dismissed.”

Sokka stood from his desk with a grunt, raising himself to his tip-toes to see over his classmates.

_Sokka & Zuko_

Sokka froze, his eyes slowly swinging over to where Zuko was sitting. The other gradually, painfully made eye contact.

Sokka grinned. Zuko did not.

He sauntered up to the scowling man, putting on his most charismatic smile. 

“So,” he drawled. “Looks like we’re partners, huh?”

Zuko turned his face away.

“Here’s my number,” was all he said.

A paper was pressed into Sokka’s hand, crumpled and warm from being held.

“Oh. um, okay…?”

Hurriedly, Sokka dug out some scrap paper from his binder, scribbling his number in the middle.

“Well, uh- this is mine. I’ll text you later and we can set up a spot to meet, yeah?”

Zuko nodded half-heartedly, inspecting the paper in his hand with an unreadable expression.

“Um, Sokka?”

Sokka turned his smile up another watt. 

“Yeah?”

“What’s this… uh, list?”

Sokka’s smile evaporated.

“Oh- god. Fuck, um- give that here. I’m sorry, I-”

Sokka frantically scribbled out the words before handing it back. “That’s not my paper I, just… picked up some scrap earlier- I didn’t really look…”

“It’s fine,” Zuko said flatly, his face unreadable. “Bye.”

Then he left.

Sokka faltered at Zuko’s blunt exit. But despite that… bump, Zuko’s number was still cupped innocuously in his palm, smelling vaguely of cinnamon. And that was a win, no matter what.

-

_6:17 pm: hey zuko. its sokka. i just wanted to say sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. really looking forward 2 being your friend!_

_read: 6:19 pm_

Sokka sighed, throwing his phone onto the carpet. He wasn’t sure why he kept waiting for a response, but whatever the reason, it was driving him mad.

Reluctantly, he picked up his sketchbook. Maybe drawing would distract him.

Sokka never liked to really think about what he was drawing. He mostly just let his hand drift wherever it pleased, with any mind to form or figure an afterthought.

So when his graphite-stained hand finally lifted from the page, it was with surprise that Sokka found himself staring down at a familiar face.

Sokka liked to draw his friends. It was good practice, afterall. But Zuko wasn’t really his friend- not yet, at least.

Sokka threw the sketchbook down with his phone and turned off the lights. If drawing hadn’t helped, then there was nothing to do now but get some sleep before the weekend.

-

_9:32 am: hi again! thought itd be best if we figured out how we’re gonna do this and such. my dads are cool w/ ppl coming over, but if u wanna do it at ur parents or like,,, outside somewhere that's cool too. lmk when youve decided._

_9:36 am: I live with my uncle._

_9:36 am: oh sorry man, my bad lol_

_9:39 am: It’s fine. You can come to my Uncle’s tea shop, though. It's really chill. Good place to get work done._

_9:40 am: dude that sounds great!! where is it?_

_9:41 am: It's on the corner of Lincoln Street. The Jasmine Dragon?_

_9:41 am: oh yeh ive been there a few times! i didn’t know u and iroh were related_

_9:44 am: I mean, I don’t really spread the news around. But I work there sometimes, on the weekends. And Uncle makes really good tea._

_9:45 am: damn,,, im hyped now. what time do u wanna meet?_

_9:47 am: Does 1:00 work?_

_9:47 am: yeah thats tight! ill see u then man_

_9:52 am: See you then._

-

Sokka would’ve thought that the hours until one would crawl by at a snail’s pace, but to his surprise, it was just the opposite.

Dinner with Bato, Hakoda, and Katara felt seconds long. Lying in bed while staring at the clock seemed like only minutes. Before Sokka knew it, the clock had ticked over to 12:45, and he was out the door. 

It all felt somewhat… dream-like. The weather only reinforced the notion.

It was a foggy autumn day. Not a beam of sunlight managed to penetrate the thick cloud cover, leaving the atmosphere dreary. Orange and red leaves rained from firework-bright trees, littering the gray streets with amber gems. It was a nice day for tea, Sokka thought. Not so much for algebra homework.

Sokka turned the corner onto Lincoln street, checking his watch. 1:00. Right on time.

The door tinkled pleasantly as Sokka entered the tea shop. Different herbs and blends immediately swirled around him, sending a brief smile across his face.

There weren't very many people in the shop. Just an elderly couple playing Pai sho in the corner, and a younger woman in a tie-dye t-shirt.

Eventually, Sokka realized that they shouldn’t be the only people sitting in the booths. Zuko _had_ said 1:00, right?

In a panic, Sokka fumbled out his phone and checked his texts. Sure enough, he was right.

“Hello there. You must be Sokka, right?”

Sokka jumped so hard he nearly dropped his very delicate, case-less phone (It was easier to keep in his pocket, okay?)

An elderly man that simply _exuded_ tea shop vibes stood before him, a kind smile on his face. He was all round corners- no sharp edges anywhere.

It was suffice to say that Sokka trusted him immediately.

“That’s me,” he replied, giving a smile of his own. “I’m here to see Zuko? We’re supposed to be working on some school stuff together.”

“Ah, yes,” the man rumbled. “My nephew is in the back. He was waiting for you.”

Sokka blinked. “Nephew? You’re Iroh?”

“The one and only,” Iroh chuckled. “Now, I’ll show you to the backroom. It’ll be nice and quiet there- and if I may ask, what kind of tea do you like?”

Sokka frowned, before belatedly realizing that this _was_ a tea shop.

“Um, ginger, thanks. No honey or milk.”

Iroh nodded solemnly. “A simple, but delicious choice, my friend.”

In a daze, Sokka allowed himself to be guided behind the counter. He wasn’t exactly sure what struck him as odd about the situation- maybe it was the fact that Zuko was related to this loving, huggable, tea-giving man and yet he’d still turned out as short-fused as he was.

Not for the first time, Sokka wondered what the rest of Zuko’s family was like. He’d refrained from googling it, out of some contrived respect for privacy. But the urge grew with every new tidbit that was dropped.

(Another part of him wanted to hear it from Zuko himself. After all, the internet couldn’t always be trusted.)

“I’ll have your tea ready in a few minutes,” Iroh said. “You two enjoy yourselves.”

Sokka realized with a jolt that he was standing before the door to the backroom. The door to Zuko. It sent a certain kind of anxiety he couldn’t quite place fluttering through his stomach.

Not giving himself any more time to hesitate, Sokka turned the knob.

The first thing that caught his eye were the strips of wood littering the floor. The second was none other than Zuko himself.

“What are you doing?” Sokka asked, before he could comprehend the obvious.

Zuko jumped, which wasn’t really a great thing to do with a knife in your hand.

“Oh. Hi, Sokka,” he said jerkily. “Um, I’m… I’m woodcutting. You were taking a while, so I thought I’d just…” Zuko trailed off, looking flushed. 

Sokka put up his hands. “Woah, dude- no. I’m not knocking your woodcutting. That’s like… the coolest hobby ever. I was just surprised.”

A pause.

“Wait… I was right on time, though…?”

Zuko set the knife of the table along with his unfinished sculpture. 

“Really? It felt like a while. Uh, I don’t really carry a watch.”

Sokka took a seat at the other end, eyeing the wooden figure.

“You do still have your phone, man. What is that anyways?”

Zuko dusted his fingers along the grain.

“It’s gonna be like… a turtle-slash-duck hybrid. I, um… I like to kind of… combine animals?” he said with a wave of his hand. “It’s more fun to carve, I guess.”

Sokka flashed his best grin. “Dude, that’s even cooler. I like you already.”

“We should probably get started,” Zuko said- just a little too loud, and a little too fast.

And so they did. Iroh came by for tea a few minutes later, and Sokka learned that Zuko liked his unrelentingly sweet. Like, seriously- there was so much honey in his tea it nearly looked like syrup.

It was disgusting. Sokka was infatuated. 

The day came and went as fast as it had begun. One second he was waiting to see Zuko and the next he was seeing him and the next he was staring at his face upon a page, wishing it was more than just lead on paper.

Sokka rolled over in his bed, groaning loudly. Okay- yes, he could admit he might have a little squish on the guy. But seriously, who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like him? 

_No one, apparently._

Sokka frowned deeply. 

He wanted to be Zuko’s friend. He did, really. But the thought made him infuriatingly… _squirmy._

Whatever. It wasn’t a problem, and it never would be.

=====

It was starting to become a problem.

“Sokka, are you okay? You’ve looked really spaced out recently.”

Katara was staring at him, head cocked and hands gently clasped. “Bato and Hakoda have noticed too. We, uh… we just wanted to make sure things were going alright…? You know it hasn’t been that long since Y-”

“I’m fine,” Sokka snapped. “This isn’t about her.”

Katara blinked. “Oh, alright. If you don’t mind me asking… what is it about?”

Sokka sat with a huff at the kitchen table.

“It’s that guy, Zuko. I can’t get him out of my head.”

Katara’s complexion immediately shifted, a sly smile now stretching across her face.

“Oh, haven’t you, now? Interesting.”

Sokka scowled as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. “It’s not like that, Katara. What I mean is that- well, I think there’s something up with him.” He sighed as he shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “I know I don’t really know him… but don’t we have like, an obligation to the people around us, or something?” Sokka was puzzled for a moment. “I think that's how Hakoda said it, anyways.”

Katara laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sokka, it’s cool. I get it. You ‘get that bread,’ as they say!”

Sokka slammed his head against the table.

“Katara, please never say that again and I will do anything you want.”

She brightened immediately. “Okay! Go ask Zuko out.”

Sokka bolted up just as fast. “What? I can’t do that! I just met him like, two days ago!”

Katara only smiled wider. “So you admit you like him? Funny, I recall you saying-”

Sokka sighed, slow and hard. “ _Fine,_ yes. Maybe just a _little_ crush. But I’m not going to do anything about it! He really doesn’t look like he has room in his life for romance.”

A gentle hum came from Katara’s throat. 

“Maybe romance is just what he needs, dear brother.”


End file.
